An Injured Puppy
by MayFairy
Summary: Tumblr prompt: "Clara is badly injured (saving the Doctor and Missy or just during an adventure whatever) and is bleeding out in the TARDIS. While the Doctor works to save her, Missy must talk to her and keep her conscious. Feelings are expressed and words are said." Fluff, bickering, worrying, and a very confused Doctor. Misffle.


**I couldn't pass this up, Misffle is my beautiful trash ship and I will love them forever. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Clara! Stay with us, keep those big eyes of yours open, okay?"

Clara, who was a bit busy clutching her stomach wound and being all too aware of how much blood was escaping out of it and onto the glass floor of the console platform, paid him little attention.

"Missy! I've got to get equipment and supplies from the infirmary," the Doctor said, a frenzy in his eyes, "You need to keep her awake. Please, I'm begging you, help me."

"Go and get your things," Missy told him evenly.

"Missy, _please-_ "

"Go. And. Get. Your. Things." She put her hands on her hips and continued to hold his gaze. "I'll look after the puppy."

He let out a tiny breath and gratitude filled his eyes before he sprinted out of the console room. The moment he was gone, Missy dropped onto her knees beside Clara.

"Concentrate on my voice, puppy," she said, with that strange calm that was usually dangerous but this time wasn't. Her voice was smooth and somehow soothing, and Clara wondered when she had become so inclined towards Scottish accents. "You need to stay awake. And alive, for that matter. Death is ever so boring. Which is why I avoid it, of course."

"Well, you're definitely the opposite of boring," Clara managed to say.

Missy's fingers brushed hair from her face, surprising her with the odd display of what might have been affection. "Thank you, dear, but I'm more than aware of that. Now you, there's another story. I thought you were boring. But the right sort of boring, the kind _he_ needs. Only you're not, not quite. You're something else."

"Are you saying something nice?" Clara asked, eyeing her suspiciously. "I must really be dying."

Missy's finger went over her lips. "Hush now, poppet. The Doctor is actually quite good at saving you humans from time to time. Positive thinking is important, you know."

"You've tried to kill me before," Clara whispered against her finger, wincing as a new wave of pain from the wound hit her, "Why do you suddenly care?"

Missy frowned, and it was almost adorable, but there was always the chance that the blood loss was making Clara delirious. The finger on Clara's lips moved to trace the curve of her cheek.

"You know, I honestly have no idea," the Time Lady admitted.

"Have no idea about what?" The Doctor asked as he ran back into the room with a box of supplies and knelt on the other side of Clara. "How's she doing?"

"Well, she's not dead, but she will be if you don't hurry up and do something," Missy snapped, making him frown at her with confusion and surprise. Still, he didn't linger on her words and instead got to work.

Clara was vaguely aware of his hands and equipment on her skin. Soon the blessed painkillers and anesthetic began to kick in and Clara could think more clearly even if the lack of blood still meant she was a bit woozy. The human grabbed the other woman's hand, making her jump and blink at her with bemusement.

"Hey nutjob," Clara said, giving her a wry smile, "You're kind of cute when you're worried."

"No one gets to kill my puppy but me," Missy replied, scowling at her. "Besides, if you died, think about the level of moping I'd have to put up with from Eyebrows over there. He'd be horribly boring and serious for years, based on his track record. I don't want to have to deal with that."

"Whatever makes you feel evil enough to let you sleep at night."

The Doctor glanced up to look between them curiously, but didn't have time to give their exchange too much thought because he was busy making sure that the event they were discussing didn't happen.

Quite contrary to Missy's claim of supposed indifference, when they all fell silent, Clara was able to feel the other brunette's thumb brushing absently across the back of her hand. She was also able to see how Missy's pale blue eyes shifted between Clara's face and injury on a near constant basis.

That definitely wasn't worry for what the Doctor might be like if it all went pear shaped. That was worry for Clara.

"You like me," Clara said in a sing-song voice, grinning like a loon. "The bitch from hell likes me..."

"No, I don't," Missy retorted.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"It's okay, I like you too," Clara admitted, giggling, "I _shouldn't_ , I should hate you, and I still do, sort of, but...I like you."

"That's the painkillers talking," Missy told her.

"Agreed," the Doctor said, staring at them before getting back to work. Clara knew that she could definitely attribute some of her strange lightness to the drugs, but not the truth she was strangely sure of.

"What, you think he's the only one who likes bad girls?" She asked Missy ironically, making the older woman lift an eyebrow and the edge of her lips in a hint of a smirk.

"You should get almost killed more often," Missy murmured, letting her hand trail up Clara's arm in a way that under any other circumstance would have sent a shiver up her spine, "This is all sorts of interesting."

"I'm done," the Doctor interrupted, giving her a sharp look, "I need to sedate her now, she's got the right things in her system and the wound patched up, it's safe and now better for her to be asleep. She'll heal faster."

Clara didn't have time to say anything before he injected her with something else and everything went black.

* * *

Humming woke Clara up, a humming that sounded rather familiar. By the time Clara was blinking her eyes open, she had identified it as the same vaguely improvised tune Missy had been singing in their cell on Skaro.

"Hey, nutjob," Clara murmured, her voice coming out weak and dry.

Missy spun to look at her with those bizarre wide eyes of hers. "Someone's awake earlier than expected."

"Where's the Doctor?"

"He wanted to keep vigil, but even he needs to sleep sometimes. Bless." Their eyes went to the grey haired Time Lord who was half on the floor, slumped against the wall with his eyes shut letting out soft snores.

"Thank you," Clara said abruptly, making Missy blink at her, "For helping me not die."

"Yeah, well, as I say, he would have been unbearable if you'd kicked it, so," Missy muttered, her eyes slightly averted. There was something almost awkward in her demeanour and Clara found herself not believing her given the concern she could remember seeing in her earlier.

"I meant it, you know," the human told her, "I do like you, even though I know I really, _really_ shouldn't. And you _are_ cute when you're worried. Which me from a few months ago would have had me committed for even thinking, but things have changed, I guess."

Missy gave her a funny look, but some of the awkwardness melted from her frame and she approached Clara's bedside with more of her usual confidence.

"Is cute the only word that comes to mind?" She asked quietly, letting her hand brush across Clara's.

Clara bit her lip and let her eyes meet the cold blue ones above her. "No."

Missy, after a pause, chuckled. "Oh, it's difficult to think with those great big eyeballs of yours looking at me like that. I'm fairly sure humans aren't meant to be quite so beautiful."

"You know, I'm not dying anymore, saying something nice is going to make me think you're back to wanting to kill me."

"Hush," Missy commanded, putting a finger to her lips again. "You know, I remember when I had you pressed to the sewer wall on Skaro. You were so warm, as humans always are, and your little heart was pounding so fast."

"We'd been running," Clara pointed out.

"Not much," Missy replied, smirking and leaning in closer, "Tell me, puppy, have you been thinking wicked thoughts about your Mistress?"

Clara, despite knowing how utterly wrong the whole thing was, just held her icy gaze. "Maybe."

Missy bent to press a slow, torturous kiss to the corner of Clara's mouth. "Come and find me when you're back on your feet. We'll have some special girl time."

A few moments later, she was gone with a flash of the vortex manipulator. Clara was left with a dry mouth and pounding chest as well the overwhelming feeling of being in far too deep with something far too dangerous.

"Fuck," she groaned. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

* * *

 **Feedback is always appreciated!**

 **-MayFairy :)**


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